


These feelings inside for you

by terig



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, Blood, Character Death, Complete, Confusion, Crack, Crushes, Cute, Death, Drama, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Graphic Description, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Romance, Sadness, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terig/pseuds/terig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl and Jazz have been friends for years. When Jazz is sent away to Earth without Prowl years go by, then they're reunited and things start to get interesting.<br/>Prowl suddenly finds himself assaulted by strange new feelings and has no idea what they mean. Crack occurs, fears are revealed and feelings are brought to light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So it has officially been ages since I’ve posted a fic, I believe it was sometime around January I last posted. But at last I have a new story!  
> This first chapter is mainly about giving the back story for the rest of the fic, as I didn’t use the actual transformers continuity for this whole “beginning of the war thing.”  
> Disclaimer for the entire story: I don’t own any of these characters, if I did then Transformers would probably be very different XD  
> Without further ado please enjoy the story.  
> Read up!

Prowl didn't do relationships. Simple as that. His battle protocols instantly scrapped any hope for romance, and sometimes even friendship, that he had. As soon as a mech or femme-although they were few and far between- showed an interest in him romantically or otherwise, his processor couldn't comprehend it. He wanted to hold their servo and he wanted to just sit back for a day and just lay about with them. But he couldn't. His body reacted on its own accord, and not in the positive way.

When he tried to explain it to the bot in question they got confused and didn't understand how he couldn't just relax. They always thought it was an elaborate hoax that he had concocted in order to get out of having to speak to them. _Every single time_. Friendships were there one day and gone the next. And his spark had been broken more times than he cared to count.

It wasn't his fault he had been designed for logic and facts as opposed to spontaneity. After having his spark broken yet again Prowl had decided that enough was enough. He shut himself off from all feelings of affection and just immersed himself with his work. Fully focusing on benefitting the autobot cause in any way he could.

A few years later when the war was still young, a fresh set of autobot recruits showed up. And in amongst them was a loud mech with a white and black finish, the large red autobot symbol stamped clearly on his chest. But what really made him stand out was the shining blue visor that covered his optics. The mech was loud and care free and so Prowl instantly pegged him as being a slacker and assumed they would never get along.

So to say the least; Prowl was astounded by how hard a worker the mech could be. And not only that, but he was one of the best bots they had in the army, and soon enough he was Third in Command of the autobot forces, behind Prowl who was Second in Command.

Over the years the pair grew closer together, as close as Prowl could allow at least. But something about the mech was so enticing to Prowl, he wanted the outgoing bot, and that was an odd and confusing thing in itself. Prowl had never in his life ever really wanted a mech before, as a friend or otherwise, but something was different, special even, about the saboteur that he couldn't quite figure out. And he desperately wanted to know.

As more time passed, the war took its toll on everyone. Jazz became less outgoing, although he was still one for a good party and joke. While Prowl himself became totally, 100% dedicated to his work, barely finding time to grab a quick energon cube and often going days without any recharge.

The little amount of time he had previously spent socialising with other mechs was quickly replaced by paper work, and he soon found himself without anyone to talk to or to spend his rare free time with. On a whole Prowls life became very lonely, very quickly.

However one thing that constantly surprised him was Jazz. Even though Prowl rarely saw the mech, anytime he did spend with him, Jazz was always there with a huge grin on his faceplates and instantly providing some companionship for Prowl. It was a nice thing to have in his life, something that kept him going in a way. A friend.

So when Jazz was suddenly sent to Earth without Prowl, well, Prowl didn't know what to do. He became even more lonely and reclusive if possible, and many mechs began to assume that Prowl wasn't even capable of having emotions. Which wasn't entirely true. They'd just been sent away to earth...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Many, many years later, the memory of Jazz had almost completely faded from his processor. Almost. So the day he heard of the plans to travel to Earth, he had been silently overjoyed. He knew Jazz was on Earth, he would finally have some companionship or even, dare he say, friendship, once more in his life.

The day he arrived on Earth he was greeted by all the other bots which had already been present prior to Prowls own arrival. As Prowl took in the new and alien surroundings he didn't notice someone approaching him until a body suddenly smashed into his own.

Prowl was caught unaware and the force of the body against his own caused him to stumble and trip, landing on his aft on the hard ground with a loud 'oomph'. He looked up with confusion on his face, trying to see who had caused him to land in such an undignified manner.

Lying on top of him cackling away while hugging his waist tightly, was none other than Jazz. Prowl smiled minutely at the sight and hesitantly wrapped his arms around Jazz in reciprocation. The duo remained in that position, holding each other after all these year, until someone ruined the moment by loudly, and obnoxiously, clearing their vocaliser.

“Guys as much I enjoy watching this, uh, reunion or whatever, there are decepticons nearby and we really gotta get a move on soon before they notice us." The voice belonged to Cliffjumper, and it caused Jazz to tense where he was sat, a reaction Prowl hadn't expected and was curious to know the reasoning behind. Setting the matter to the side of his mind, Prowl calmly unwound his arms from Jazz and gently nudged the mech still draped across him.

"Jazz. I would appreciate it if you moved off me now please." Prowl said in his usual, monotone voice. Jazz looked into Prowls optics for a second- and was that a flash of disappointment Prowl saw behind his visor?- before nodding his helm slightly and standing up, quickly offering a servo down to Prowl himself in an effort to help him back onto his feet.

Prowl took Jazz's servo after a moment’s hesitation and suddenly found himself uncomfortably aware of how much he'd allowed one mech to touch him in the space of 10 minutes after years of going without such physical contact. He awkwardly cleared his vocaliser and thanked Jazz politely before turning to Optimus, who was silently standing at the sideline.

"Prowl, it's good to see you after so long." The Prime said by way of greeting.

"A pleasure to be by your side again, Optimus." The semi-truck smiled at him slightly before turning to address the rest of the Autobots around him.

"Alright everyone, transform and roll out!"


	2. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Woop chapter 2 guys, the story really gets started now so I hope you do enjoy it!  
> Read up!

Prowl walked around the arks halls with Jazz. The mech was babbling on about some earth culture or the other that he'd found interesting, not that Prowl was paying much attention, he was too busy replaying the events of earlier in his processor. Why did Jazz react the way he had towards Cliffjumper?

“Jazz? Could you please explain your earlier reaction to Cliffjumper upon my arrival?” The mech in question fell silent at the inquiry, and proceeded to walk at a slower pace. A minute of silence passed by and in which Jazz’s walk stopped altogether until he was stood prone in the middle of the hallway.

“It’s kind ‘f a long story Prowler. Maybe we oughta find a more private place yeah?” Jazz began to walk on, not waiting for Prowls answer, knowing the tactician would follow him.

The duo soon arrived at what Prowl assumed to be Jazz’s own private quarter as the saboteur smoothly keyed in the code and the door slid across, granting them access to the room. Jazz walked in first and automatically took a seat on the edge of his berth, patting the spot next to him signalling for Prowl to sit beside him, which the mech did.

“Ah’ don’t know if ya knew this or not, buh Cliffjumper was there ‘parently when Optimus told ya about me headin’ tah Earth, and ‘bout how ya had to stay behind. He claims that ya kicked up ah storm and tried to convince Optimus tha ya’ needed ta come too, buh boss bot was havin’ none ‘f that. Cliff then say’s tha after that ya started to act real cold ta all tha other mechs all cause ah was leaving ‘nd you weren’t comin’. Cause o’tha he assumes we’re, ah, romantically involved.”

Prowl opened his mouth in an attempt to plead his own case, trying to stop the energon from heating up his faceplates at the same time. However Jazz continued on as though he didn’t notice, and perhaps he hadn’t, or maybe he just didn’t want to know what Prowl had to say on the topic of them being romantically involved.

“Buh basically when tha mech was sent ta Earth with all o’us he made it his job ta bug me ‘bout it. Naw, sayin’ he was buggin’ me makes it sound like a bad thing, he was jus’ rude. Ah don’ appreciate it when mechs are rude about ma friends. So ‘ah, heh funny story actually, buh ‘ah hit ‘em.”

“Jazz! I can understand you may have been... upset, by whatever Cliffjumper said against me, but there was no need for you to hit him. I couldn’t care less what the mech thinks of me.” Prowls slight outburst cut Jazz off before he could continue, and the saboteur just looked at Prowl for a few seconds before shaking his helm lightly and continuing on.

“Ya didn’t hear wha’ he was sayin’ Prowler, yer ma’ best mech, ain’t gunna stand by while some other bot says slag ‘bout ya. Although; me hittin’ him did stop ‘im from ever bringin’ it up again or least ‘round me. Buh now that yer here, he’s jus’ gunna bug tha two of us to the pit cause he knows Optimus wouldn’t stand for ma hittin’ him again, ‘nd ah wouldn’t give the bot tha satisfaction ‘f windin ma up again. ‘Nd a’hm jus’ sorry Prowler.”

Prowl looked at the visored mech for a minute, letting all the information he’d just been provided sink in. _Jazz considered him to be his best mech?_ Prowl could never have imagined such a thing to have been possible for someone such as himself. A strange feeling fluttered across his processor for a second, only a fleeting feeling, but it was there, and he couldn’t quite place what it was. All Prowl knew was that it wasn’t an entirely bad feeling, and he hadn’t even noticed the small smile playing on his lips until Jazz pointed it out rather enthusiastically.

“Prowler? Are- are yah smiling? Did ah make ya smile? Oh I gotta tell the other mechs about this!” Jazz’s reaction towards Prowls slight slip in control of his facial expression did make the Praxian chuckle in a rare show of amusement. Jazz grinned widely at him in response.

Prowls humour was gone as quickly as it had arisen, and his face was soon returned to its usual neutral expression, with which he turned to Jazz.

“Jazz, I can understand why you hit Cliffjumper, however I feel it is I who needs to apologise, for had I not acted the way I had when I was informed that you would be leaving for Earth without me, then you wouldn’t have had to have dealt with Cliffjumper. So I’m sorry Jazz for having indirectly caused you such trouble.”

Jazz simply waved Prowls apology off. “Nah don’ worry about it Prowl, buh.... It certainly sounds like a certain autobot Second in Command was gunna miss mah.” Jazz nudged Prowl as he said this, acting like a sparkling that had just told a great joke and was forcibly making the mech beside them aware of it.

“Jazz, based on your reaction earlier to my arrival on Earth, it would seem as though you are the one who missed me.” Prowl said smugly. The retort seemed to have flustered Jazz as his faceplates were suddenly tinted a slight blue as the energon had rushed to his face.

Jazz was rubbing the back of his neck while he replied. “Well, ah... Yer mah mech, ah mean ma best mech, course ah missed ya. Yah mean ta say you didn’t miss me?” The final part of the sentence was said lowly, almost as if he was afraid of what Prowl would respond with.

“I missed you Jazz. You are my only true, friend.” Prowl was unused to saying such things, as he honestly hadn’t had a friend in such a long time before Jazz, and so admitting to such things was a little foreign to him.

However clearly saying it was the right thing to do as it caused Jazz’s faceplate to split into a grin as he gave Prowl a quick side hug.

“Well come on then, ah’ll show ya to yer room.” With that Jazz walked towards his door, Prowl once again following behind him all while replaying everything that had just occurred over in his processor.

Prowl should be happy, he had a friend; a best friend. But if he should be happy, then why was there this niggling feeling in the back of processor making him feel disappointed? And why did the fact that Jazz had slipped up and called Prowl _his mech_ make him feel so funny inside?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dundunduhhhhhhhhh (so not a real cliffhanger but oh well let me pretend)  
> But oh my poor spark, this chapter KILLED ME! Jazz’s accent and I are not on good terms (my beta reader can certainly vouch for that) It’s just so freaking difficult and then Jazz just had to go and TALK so much in this chapter!


	3. "Accident"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the story so far! Now; on with the next instalment of this fic then.  
> Also thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing on the story!  
> Read up!

Later on that evening Prowl was brought up to date on the decepticon activity on Earth thus far by Optimus, and was kindly given a vehicle mode, before being told he had the next week off work in order to adapt to the new world he found himself in. Prowl had protested against the idea, however the Prime insisted.

It was no surprise then that Jazz had found Prowl sitting at his desk a few hours later with a datapad of previous battle tactics used so far against the 'cons in servo. Jazz had taken the burden upon him to grab the datapad from the tactician’s servo, which he then subspaced, before hauling Prowl out of his seat and down the hallway to the rec room doors. Each one of Prowls protests were ignored as Jazz took him by the arm and pulled him through the doors.

All optics turned to the two mechs as they walked to a table in the corner of the room, which Jazz unceremoniously shoved Prowl into a chair at, before walking off to grab two energon cubes.

When Jazz returned he placed a cube in front of Prowls face before taking a seat opposite him at the table. Prowl was acutely aware that every mech in the room was currently staring at the duo and it made Prowl uncomfortable. Somehow Jazz must have noticed this as he whipped his helm to face the rest of the room.

"Alright everybody this ain’t no show, let a couple o'mechs catch up!"

Prowl was immensely grateful that Jazz was able to sense what was wrong with him without him having to actually say so himself. It caused that funny feeling to return once more.

"So Prowler, how was yer time on Cybertron without ma? I bet yah it was sparkbreaking." There was a wide grin plastered on his faceplates and a teasing tone to Jazz’s voice as he said it; it was as though Jazz was trying to force Prowl to admit he missed him once more.

“My time on Cybertron was boring. There never is much to do in the middle of a planet wide war.” Jazz’s smile faltered slightly at Prowl’s response, and it made Prowl regret his response slightly so he continued on with it. "It was made even more boring however when you left."

Jazz's face perked up at that and his smile brightened once more. “Ah knew ya couldn’a lived without ma’ Prowler.” Jazz winked at Prowl and made fake kissey faces at him all while Prowl rolled his optics and resumed sipping at his energon, completely blanking Jazz’s sparkling like antics. Even if they did make his spark flutter oddly.

A wolf whistle loudly cut through the rec room just then, and almost every mechs helm turned to face the source of the sound. All optics landed on Cliffjumper who was standing not too far away from Jazz and Prowl, just watching them. “Can’t you two mechs get a room. Some of us are trying to refuel here, we don’t need to be staring at you two having an optic frag.” Cliffjumper snickered at his own comment before turning and walking to a table where he took a seat next to Hound.

Prowl could _feel_ the optics staring at Jazz and he now, and it made the Praxian’s door-wings twitch in annoyance and embarrassment. Jazz on the other servo looked the picture of fury. His servos were clenched tightly and he was gripping the energon cube so tightly Prowl feared it would break, but most noticeable of all was the fury Prowl could see on Jazz’s faceplates beneath the faint tint of energon.

Jazz shoved his chair out from under him and began to walk straight towards Cliffjumper, the min-con completely unaware of his immanent doom. Prowl knew what was about to happen however and quickly got out of his own chair to prevent the oncoming clash. Prowl stood in his way and made sure he was blocking Jazz’s sight of Cliffjumper.

“Jazz,” He said lowly, “he’s not worth it. Think about what you said earlier. I don’t want you going to the brig over something as stupid as this.” Prowl was staring at Jazz’s visor intently, praying to primus that the mech would listen to him and just walk away. However Jazz took another step forward and incidentally reduced the space between the two, causing a wash of that stupid feeling to flow through him and his spark to beat rapidly in its casing. Ignoring it, Prowl placed a slightly shaking servo on Jazz’s shoulder and squeezed slightly, “ _Please_ Jazz.”

Prowl didn’t know if it was the touch or his words, but he could feel Jazz’s shoulders slope in defeat of him before Jazz took a step back once more. “Aw’right Prowler, fair point. The min-con aint worth it.” And with that the Third in Command of the Autobot forces turned and walked out of the rec room; leaving Prowl to stand there in the middle of the room alone, with all optics on him.

Prowl made to take a step forward, but instead he choose to turn and look at Cliffjumper. The mini-con was still unaware of what had just transpired behind his back, and Prowl felt oddly annoyed by that fact. He quickly walked the remaining distance to where the mech was sitting and lightly tapped his shoulder.

The red mech turned and raised his optics to look at Prowl. A smirk instantly crawled across his faceplates as he looked behind Prowl to see that he was alone. “Aw did your boyfriend leave you?”

The question only fuelled Prowls annoyance, and his body acted on its own accord. Suddenly he found himself mere inches away from the smaller mechs faceplates and he began to talk lowly to him. “If you so much as say a word regarding my relationship with Jazz again I will happily report you to Optimus for harassment of not one, but two commanding officers and will have your useless aft permanently welded to the brigs floors. Got it?”

Prowls voice had a menacing tone to it and Cliffjumper visibly shrank back from the larger mech, mutely nodding in understanding. “Tell one mech what I said here and you might end up having an _accident_ on the battle field.” Prowls departing sentence was whispered so closely to Cliffjumpers audio sensor to ensure he was the only one to hear it.

With that said Prowl stood up to his full height and raised an optic ridge at Cliffjumper. “I’m glad we understand each other.” Then he walked back to his table and resumed drinking his energon cube, blocking out everyone’s hushed whispers and peering optics. Prowl was surprised at himself for all he’d said to Cliffjumper as the behaviour was so out of character for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. He’d done it for Jazz, and in his processor that was all the dignification needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Aw Prowl is such a nerd. Let me know what you thought of this chapter my lovelies.  
> Also I’ve noticed that I always make Cliffjumper into the douche of the story but I can’t help it, I don’t like his character very much. Oops? Haha, sorry to any Cliffjumper fans...


	4. Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it might maybe seem like Prowl is maybe being a bit OC (I don’t know is he?) I think my reasoning for it all sort of clears it up though... My logic at least XD
> 
> Plus I don’t think it’s that bad. Next chapter though guys!
> 
> Read up!

Prowl didn’t leave the rec room immediately after his confrontation with Cliffjumper, instead he calmly sat there and mulled the whole thing through his processor whilst leisurely finishing his energon cube. The whole thing confused him because he was normally a mech of strategy and planning yet everything that had just occurred was completely, random and just out of character all together for him.

However he decided not to dwell on it too much and instead pegged it down to being the new surroundings he found himself in; perhaps the Earth’s atmosphere was having some sort of minor side affect on his processor?

Prowl decided to let the matter slip from his mind and instead chose to finish off his energon, dropping the empty cube in the dispenser before walking out the rec room doors and heading down the Arks orange corridors to a certain mechs door.

Standing outside Prowl contemplated why he found himself outside the door, before knocking on it lightly. He could hear shuffling before the door opened up, revealing a slightly troubled looking Jazz. The saboteur didn’t speak as he took a step to the side, wordlessly granting access to the mechs room which Prowl silently took with only a moment’s hesitation, in which he looked at Jazz with confusion.

A thick silence hung in the air, only the sound of the door closing could be heard. Prowl stood awkwardly in the centre of the room, he could feel the weight of Jazz’s optics on his back and it made his doorwings twitch slightly with nerves. Just as he was beginning to regret his decision to come to Jazz’s room the mech in question began to speak.

“Prowl a’hm so sorry ‘bout all of this. And ah want ya tah stay quiet ‘n let mah say this okay?” The seriousness of Jazz’s voice made Prowl hold his tongue as he nodded his helm in understanding. The visored mech began to pace and he told Prowl to take a seat because it might take a while, before continuing to pace in front of a now seated Prowl.

“When ‘ah first came tah Earth without ya, ah was a little tetchy cause ah’d jus’ left ma best mech back on Cybertron. Tha other bots on base noticed ‘nd most of them understood why ‘nd just left mah be. Buh some of ‘em, as in Cliff, took advantage ‘f the situation and he started tah tease mah about it.” Jazz paused in his now almost frantic pacing in order to look Prowl in the optics.

“He started tah say tha it’d been 4 million years, ‘nd tha you was prolly dead or else ya’d found someone new ta replace mah- not that ya woulda had to replace mah cause we weren’t then-ah mean aren’t- involved tha way.” A faint tint was visible on Jazz’s faceplates but he quickly turned his back to Prowl in an attempt to hide it from the tactician, but he’d already seen it. Not that he paid it much attention however because Prowl was rather preoccupied with the strange feeling flooding through him at yet another one of Jazz’s slip ups.

“Anyways, Cliff kept goin on ‘nd on about it, till one day ah snapped ‘nd ah hit ‘em. After tha he stopped bringin it up, or at least he had stopped. Buh now yer here on Earth Cliffjumper seems to be pit-bent on bringing it up any time he sees ma with ya. ‘Nd ah just feel real bad tha ah’m the reason ya have ta deal with Cliff bein such an afthead to ya.”

Jazz’s face was filled with remorse as he stared at the ground. Prowl finally fully understood why Jazz had reacted so negatively to Cliffjumper; the mini-con had practically forced the idea that Prowl had either forgotten him or was deactivated into his processor. Prowls spark gave an odd pang at that.

“Jazz.” The word was uttered so softly that Prowls own audios struggled to pick it up, but Jazz was the best special-ops mech around so it was no surprise to Prowl that the bots helm whipped up to look at the tactician when he said it. “Jazz you really do not have to apologise, I have dealt with far worse than mechs like Cliffjumper. Sometimes I swear you forget I used to be a law enforcer in Praxus before the war.”

Jazz simply shrugged his shoulders in response, the vague hint of a smile gracing his faceplates. Prowl looked at him kindly as he continued on. “Besides, how could I ever forget the mech who made it his personal objective to sit on my desk and distract me from work as much as possible? Which was a lot; considering we used to work in the same office.” Now a smile really did appear on Jazz’s face.

“But more than that Jazz, you were and _are_ my friend. _Ma best mech_ as you would say I believe and 4 million years witho- Jazz I’m trying to be serious here.” Prowl had to stop himself mid-sentence because Jazz was in the middle of giggling like a teenage femme at his impersonation of the mech himself.

“Ah’m sorry Prowler that was sweet ‘nd ah’m overjoyed tah hear tha buh yer impression ‘f mah was too good tah be true.” A few more minutes passed by where Jazz continued to laugh while Prowl was doing his own version of pouting.

“As I was saying; 4 million years without contact from you wasn’t going to change the fact that we were such good friends. At the same time you had every reason to get mad at Cliffjumper for implying such things; I myself would no doubt have hit someone had they insisted of your death.” At this Jazz walked over and took a seat opposite Prowl so he could continue to look at the Praxian mech as he spoke.

“For the same reason this is also why I threatened Cliffjumper after you left the rec room. Honestly Jazz you should have stayed, you would have loved it.” Prowl leaned back in his chair slightly after he said that, feeling rather smug about the look of shock he had managed to create on Jazz’s face.

“Ya threatened Cliff? Prowl ma mech ah’m speechless!” Jazz sounded so genuinely awed that Prowl was now secretly pleased he’d threatened the mini-con. “Ah’m also deeply hurt that ya went ‘nd had such fun without ma.” The awe was gone now as Jazz put on a wounded face and gripped his spark chamber as though he were in pain.

Prowl simply rolled his optics at Jazz, glad that the saboteur was now back to being his usual happy self. Remorse didn’t look good on Jazz, and Prowl was glad he was able to remove the look from his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I love Jazz, but dear primus his accent is going to be the literal death of me. Any and all of my friends know that me and that accent do NOT get a long anymore...
> 
> Thanks for reading the story so far! Hope you're enjoying it.


	5. Prank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Crack ahead! Writing this chapter was quite fun...  
> Read up!

The following day Prowl wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself: he wasn’t one for socialising much so going to sit in the rec room didn’t appeal to him; Optimus’ 1 week ban still had 6 more days covering it so Prowl couldn’t even work to fill time; and then lastly Jazz had _somehow_ managed to get himself monitor duty. Primus knows how the mech managed that, but regardless: as a result of it Prowl was utterly at a loss of what to do.

For the first hour he just paced about in his room, thinking things through his processor. These feelings he kept getting, he needed to find out what was causing them and what they meant. He ran each scenario when the feeling came to him over in his processor: there was the time when Jazz had referred to him as being _his_ mech; then there was the time in the rec room when Jazz had just _known_ what was bothering him and instantly put a stop to it; also then in the rec room, when Jazz had made the gap between them _oh so small_ ; and lastly there was the time the feeling came to him during his conversation with Jazz last night, and the saboteur had almost implied that he and Jazz were in fact romantically involved.

It clearly had something to do with Jazz, but what?

All the thinking on the matter was starting to give him a helmache and he decided to stop thinking about it least he blow a fuse. Prowl paused in his pacing and contemplated what he should do next, and in the end he decided to go to the rec room. What’s the worst that could happen?

The Praxian mech took his time walking to the rec room, even if he’d made the decision to sit with other mechs, it didn’t mean he had to be enthusiastic about it. However he soon found himself stood outside the rec room doors far too quickly in his own opinion. Taking a deep breath, Prowl sealed his own fate and walked through the doors.

A resounding clang followed by a loud splashing sound rang throughout the room. Total silence befell as Prowl looked down at himself and found that he was no longer looking at himself. His normal black and white finish was now covered in bright pink paint. A low growl began in his throat as he looked up to see none other than Sideswipe standing there in shock.

“Sideswipe, why is there pink paint on my finish?” Prowls voice was one of false calm, a trap which Sideswipe immediately fell into as he thought himself safe.

“Wow Prowl sorry that wasn’t meant for you, although I have to say, pink looks good on you-ahhhhhh!” Sideswipe yelped as he suddenly found himself being charged by a very angry and very pink Autobot Second in Command. He did however make the correct decision to start running.

“Sideswipe when I catch you you’re going to wish you never said that!” Prowls call could be heard throughout the Ark, startling more than one mech with its sound. Sideswipe continued to run around the room a couple of times, ducking behind tables and chairs when possible, not that it deterred the Praxian.

Over time Sideswipes screams of fear slowly developed into ones of glee as he soon found himself enjoying the whole ordeal. The red twin began to cackle and giggle as he ran about the place, Prowl hot on his heels. Sideswipe eventually got bored of running around the room, and so he decided it was time for a change of scenery.

Taking a sharp turn Sideswipe made a dash for the doors and bulled straight through them, seamlessly transforming and driving off. Prowl watched this happen, and considered not following him. But _pink paint_. That thought was the only thing running through his processor as he transformed into his vehicle mode, a datsun police car suggested to him by Optimus, and he was off.

Prowl might have been older than Sideswipe, and he might’ve always protested when other bots raced around the halls, and he _might_ never race himself. But that didn’t mean Prowl wasn’t fast; because he was **fast**.

Prowl easily caught up with Sideswipe, regardless of the mechs head start and Prowl began hovering right up the other bots rear end. Without much thought or effort, Prowl flung himself up into the air, transformed and landed perfectly in front of Sideswipe, forcing him to come to an abrupt halt at Prowls feet.

Sideswipe transformed and immediately collapsed to the ground in a fit of laughter, his vents hitching and catching from the intensity of his humour. Prowl looked down at the young frontliner and growled in the back of his throat once more, before taking a step forward and looming over him in an intimidating manner.

“Sideswipe!” Prowl yelled down at him, making the red mech jump and turn his gaze to Prowls hardened optics. “You _will_ be helping me to remove this monstrosity of a paintjob from my finish, as well as clearing any of it from the rec room floor and walls. No complaints, do you understand?”

The bot just nodded his helm. “Yeah of course Prowl, it really wasn’t meant for you, so I am sorry about that. Even if it was pretty funny.” Sideswipe started to giggle once more from his position on the floor, and even Prowl had to admit it was slightly, only _slightly_ , funny. Not that he’d tell the prankster that. However the repetition of his earlier phrase made a question come to the forefront of Prowls mind.

“So you’ve said; but who _was_ it intended for?” Prowl was genuinely interested to know who the red terror twin had initially intended to dump bright pink paint on and make suffer the very fate Prowl was in at that moment.

“Oh that, well it was supposed to fall on either Jazz or Cliffjumper, whichever one walked through the door first.” Sideswipe was so nonchalant when he said this that Prowl was even more interested than before.

“Why those two mechs?” Prowl asked, he was now calm and collected after his irregular rule break of speeding around the Ark, and just over all acting like; well like one of the twins rather than a mech of strategy and logic.

Sideswipe didn’t even hesitate to answer Prowls question: “Well Jazz because I know the mech would take the joke and I owe him payback for yesterday. And then quite frankly, why _not_ Cliffjumper. The bot’s annoying.” Prowl had to smirk a tiny bit at that, silently agreeing with Sideswipes opinion of Cliffjumper.

Prowl offered a servo down to the red twin, and quickly hauled him to his feet. “Enough of this, what’s done is done, and you know have to get rid of this hideous shade from my finish. Why _anyone_ would choose to have this colour is beyond me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Poor Prowl got covered in pink paint bless his spark. I quite like the ending of this chapter though.  
> EDIT: so a kind lovely precious soul drew fanart for this chapter. I honestly feel so blessed so thank you so much for this http://nightscream19.deviantart.com/art/Prank-636537234


	6. Reminiscing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, not going to lie I actually kind of really like this chapter. I don’t know why at all but I just do.  
> Read up!

Jazz stared at the monitor in front of him, painfully aware of his own boredom. Why did Optimus have to go and give him extra monitor duty, it’s not like he deserved it. Well, he did stamp “property of Ratchet” onto Sideswipes aft before Prowls arrival to Earth, but that still didn’t call for _monitor duty_.

Monitor duty was easily one of the least entertaining things in the world, watching empty Ark corridors for 8 hours was not how Jazz had planned to spend his day, and he would have happily taken a spark withering frown from the Prime along with a speech about dignity and respect for fellow autobots over the mundane task.

Jazz was seriously considering just killing himself after only an hour of being on duty, how Red Alert could spend all his time happily carrying out monitor duty was completely beyond Jazz’s processor. The different screens continued to show up the same empty corridors and the same empty rooms for a further 30 minutes before _finally_ some movement occurred.

Sideswipe carefully snuck out of his room and down the Ark’s orange hallways to the rec room, where Jazz switched monitors to look at him from inside the room. The red prankster was clearly in the middle of setting up some devious prank if his smirk was anything to go by.

Jazz watched Sideswipe work in an almost religious like manner as the mech carefully scoped out the area to make sure the coast was clear before beginning to take various items out of his subspace.

As soon as Jazz saw the large can be taken out he _knew_ what was being set up, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to stop it. Whatever poor mech the prankster managed to catch in his master plan this time was going to get one hell of a makeover.

A few minutes after Sideswipe began to set up more movement occurred which he noticed from the side of his visor, glancing at the screen he noticed that it was Prowl. The mech wore his usual neutral expression as he walked down the halls in measured steps. Jazz stared at the mech for a while.

It was common knowledge to those around the Ark that Jazz and Prowl had a strange relationship to say the least. The pair had never been romantically involved, but there was always an under tone of flirting when they spoke, and when they had been separated neither mech had reacted in a positive way.

Jazz thought back to the first few years on the Ark without Prowl and felt a shudder run through him at the memories. Jazz was typically a light-sparked mech and he could always be found laughing or talking away amicably to one mech or the other. However that mech hadn’t been around for the first few years. Jazz had been devastated when he learnt that Prowl wouldn’t be coming with him to Earth. The Autobot Third in Command had spoken to Optimus about the situation and had tried to persuade the Prime to bring Prowl along as well, however he had been shot down and told that he had his reasons for making Prowl stay behind.

Without Prowl around Jazz became quite snappy and a lot less interested in what other bots had to say to him. He actually started to turn into Prowl in a way, as he became over invested in his paperwork, something which Jazz would normally rather face Megatron alone in battle than fill out.

Eventually bots began to notice the change in Jazz and finally caught on to the reasoning for his sudden change in attitude. They knew the issue with Prowl being left behind, and how it was a sensitive spot for Jazz, and so the majority of bots left Jazz to deal with the issue in his own way.

However one mech in particular was determined to bring the matter up every time they lay optics on Jazz: Cliffjumper. The red mini-con constantly brought up Prowl in any and every way possible. Be it from teasing Jazz about being grumpy because he was away from his “boyfriend”, to bringing up the state Cybertron was in when they left and the likelihood that Prowls spark had been extinguished.

After years of Jazz’s negative attitude and of dealing with Cliffjumper’s goading and teasing about Prowl, the Third in Command of the autobot forces had finally snapped and taken all his pent up anger, helplessness and just utter misery out on the mini-con.

Apparently Ironhide had to pull Jazz off the minicon before he caused the little bot any serious damage, but Jazz had been seeing black and red spots across his vision due to complete rage, and it had taken the combined efforts of Ironhide, Sunstreaker and a sedative from Ratchet to stop the mech from attacking once more.

When Jazz had woken up he was immediately hit on the helm a couple of times by Ratchet and his trusty wrench. The old medic had yelled profanities at him that would have made Megatron shrivel up in fear at. It was safe to say that after that incident Jazz slowly reverted back to his old self and Cliffjumper never brought the topic of Prowl up around him ever again: that was until the Praxian had landed on Earth of course.

Jazz shook the memories from his mind and focused back on the monitors in front of him; he looked up just in time to watch Prowl get a can of neon pink paint dropped on his helm. Jazz couldn’t stop the choked laugh that worked its way free from his vocaliser at the expression on Prowls face, it was too priceless. He knew deep in his spark that Sideswipe was completely fragged, but he couldn’t possibly break the fight up before he’d watched the red twin’s reaction to an angry Prowl.

Jazz certainly got a reaction and the mech nearly fell off his chair with laughter at the look of pure horror and fear on Sideswipes face when he realised Prowl was running straight at him. A game of cat and mouse ensued, where Sideswipe ran for his life and Prowl bulled after him with every intention of throttling the mech. It was a truly beautiful sight to behold.

However with Sideswipe being Sideswipe, the bot eventually began to enjoy himself if the huge smile and look of glee on his face was anything at all to go on. Jazz had to shake his helm fondly at that, because he wasn’t sure he knew of any other mech that would look so genuinely happy about being chased by an enraged Prowl other than Sideswipe himself.

Soon though Sideswipe made a dash for the rec room doors and Jazz knew that it was all over. Prowl would never be caught dead acting like a young bot racing round the arks halls, especially when he so often stopped and punished other mechs for doing it back on Cybertron.

So for that exact reason you could understand why Jazz was so surprised when Prowl shot out the doors and quickly transformed into vehicle mode before giving chase to Sideswipe. Jazz was also surprised to discover that Prowl was quick. In a matter of seconds he had caught up to the younger mech.

Jazz watched in awe as the tactician leapt into the air and seamlessly transformed to land perfectly in front of Sideswipe, forcing the younger mech to come to an abrupt halt. Jazz’s processor was swimming, his heart beating faster than normal. Seeing Prowl so, out of control really had an effect on him.

The saboteur was so out of it that he was no longer paying attention to the monitors until movement suddenly caught his attention and he shook his helm out of the trance he had just been in. The two mechs were now walking to the wash racks, or at least Jazz made an educated guess that’s where they were going.

The saboteur could see Sideswipe’s shoulder plates rising up and down in badly concealed laughter. Jazz stared at the monitor in front of him in awe once more: Prowl had really let go just then, and Jazz had to admit that it was a nice thing to watch, or at least his spark certainly thought so, regardless of the pink paint covering Prowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Jazz is casually just watching Prowl this entire chapter, but I mean who wouldn’t want to do that ;)  
> What do you think of the story so far?


	7. Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OKAY GUYS! So this is the chapter in which I tried to make emotions happen within you! Let me know if it worked because I tried so hard.  
> Read up!

Prowl and Sideswipe arrived soon enough at the washracks. The tactician headed straight to one of the showers and turned it on. The water washed away some of the still somewhat wet paint but not all of it, and the tactician knew it was going to take a while to get the offending colour off of his finish. Prowl sighed; he grabbed a scrubber and some solvent before starting to work it into a lather on his chest.

It was in the middle of this that he noticed Sideswipe standing awkwardly to the side. "Sideswipe as much as you would love me to keep this colour, I do not. Now stop acting like a sparkling and help me. I do not bite."

Sideswipe hesitated for another moment before taking one full almighty step forward and paused again. “It’s just that- I thought doorwings were sensitive, I don’t want to... y’know...” Prowl frowned at Sideswipe for a microsecond before what the mech was implying clicked in together in his processor.

“Oh. **Oh**. Eh- that will not happen. I’ve turned the sensors off in my doorwings.” Prowl was now the one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation, and he considered just telling Sideswipe to leave. However the red twin now seemed to be completely at ease as he stepped forward so he was directly behind Prowl.

“Okay so what, you just want me to get if off the areas you can’t reach?” Sideswipes voice was extremely close to Prowls audio and it made the mech shift forward slightly.

“Yes please.” And with that the two set to work. At the beginning it was awkward on both sides, but they soon got into a rhythm of sorts, were Sideswipe would use the scrubber whilst Prowl worked up a lather on a different piece of metal, then they would swap roles. This continued for half an hour in silence, although it wasn’t awkward, the pair were just too focused on their work to talk.

For that reason neither mech heard someone walk into the room until said mech spoke. “ **Sideswipe** where the frag are you?” Ratchet’s voice was loud and it sliced through the calm air like a hot knife through butter as the humans would say.

Sideswipe and Prowl both jumped, causing Sideswipe to drop the bottle of solvent he’d previously been holding. The red twin bent down in a haste to pick it up and Prowl turned around to face the source of the loud disturbance. However just at that moment Ratchet decided to round the corner and came face to face with Prowl and Sideswipe in what appeared to be a compromising situation, but in fact was entirely innocent.

Sideswipe swore under his breath as he stood up and looked at Ratchet. “Oh hey Ratch.” The medics optic twitched in complete and utter **rage** _ **.**_

“Don’t you _oh hey_ _Ratch_ me! Just what in Primus name is going on here?” Ratchets voice was verging on the point of hysteria, and Sideswipe was at a loss for why the medic was so angry. “I knew it was a bad idea from the start! I said to you that you’d be better off with a younger bot than me but _no_! You _insisted_ that it was me you wanted. And I was dumb enough to believe someone like you would ever want an ugly old bot like me.”

There was coolant freely falling down the medics faceplates, and he turned his back to the pair, walking towards the door. Prowl was frozen, literally froze on the spot, for a number of reasons. The main one being that _Sideswipe and Ratchet_ were apparently an item, and secondly because Ratchet believed that he and Sideswipe- the last mech he would ever even _consider_ looking at romantically, he would nearly choose Megatron before the red twin- were having an affair.

“What- wait _what_? Ratchet get the **frag** back in here or so help me!” Prowls processor was on the verge of glitching out, and his actions were reflecting that as the tactician _never_ swore. Ratchet slowly turned around to look at Prowl, his body language practically screaming that he wanted to lunge at Prowl and beat him to death with a wrench, regardless of the tears falling down his face.

“Ratchet this is most certainly **not** what it looks like. Sideswipe dropped a bucket of neon fragging pink paint on my helm. As punishment I made him help me get the paint off because 1) I can’t reach it all myself anyways. 2) It’s his fault I was even covered in the offending colour. And 3) I know Sideswipe would have just set the prank up again immediately had I not prevented him from doing so.” Prowls tone of voice was one of forced calm, but you could tell from the look in his optics that the mech was anything but calm.

“Sideswipe and I did not, nor shall we _ever_ , have any kind of physical relationship. In fact Sideswipe actively made sure that I would not be “aroused” as such during the situation by bringing up the topic of my doorwings. The pit forsaken things had their sensors turned off anyway from the moment the paint fell because it was uncomfortable to feel the paint on them.” Prowls voice was getting more and more frantic as he continued on. “We had been working in silence, and your voice had startled the both of us, causing Sideswipe to _drop the solvent_! I would never- why would you- even with what it looked like- _oh no_.” That was the last thing to leave Prowls mouth as the mech finally crashed from the absurdity of the situation he found himself in.

Sideswipe shot forward and managed to catch Prowl just before the mech landed on his doorwings, which no doubt would have been painful. The red twin quickly set him onto the floor and turned to face Ratchet.

The medic’s mouth was hanging open slightly and Sideswipe could practically see the gears turning in his processor. “Ratch’ say something please.” Sideswipes voice was hoarse with emotion and a few tears were now staining his own face.

Ratchet blinked once. Then twice. Then he looked down at Sideswipe who was crouched down on the floor. He opened and closed him mouth a couple of times, trying to speak but unable to find the words to say, and instead he ended up looking like a fish out of water.

“Ratchet. You know I would never do that, I’d never dream of being with any other mech than you. I love you for frags sake Ratchet! Why do you find that so hard to believe?” Sideswipe was beginning to cry harder and harder as the medic continued to stand there simply staring at the red twin. Sideswipe then felt himself become enraged that the medic was so obtuse, he growled as he rose to his feet and stomped towards the older bot until he was mere centimetres away. “ **Why**!”

“BECAUSE YOU COULD DO SO MUCH BETTER!” Ratchet began to yell back. “I’m an old bot Sides, you’re young and you’re beautiful you could have _anyone_ and you choose to be stuck with an old afthead like me.” The young frontliner snarled in frustration before punching the medic in the jaw, knocking the white mech to his aft.

Ratchet was in a state of shock: Sideswipe had punched him, Sideswipe had _never_ hit him. The red frontliner was pacing like a caged animal as he spoke. “Stop saying that Ratchet! You forget that I’m not exactly young myself, I’m not some sparkling that you cradle robbed or something. I can make my own decisions, and I chose you because I love _you_. I love your grumpy no-nonsense attitude, I love how dedicated you are to your work and seeing how happy it makes you when you help someone. I love that you worry over me and Sunny so much when we go off to practice our jet judo, and how you’re always there to patch us up. I love that you’re so considerate of how I feel at all times. But most of all Ratchet I just love you! I’d never leave you or cheat on you because you’re perfect and I just wish you would let me make you believe that.” Sideswipe was practically screaming by the time he’d finished his rant and he was panting heavily as coolant fell from his optics.

“You punched me.” Ratchets three word response sent Sideswipe spiralling to the ground, only to be caught by the medic before he damaged himself. “Sides, I- I’m sorry it’s just that- it looked like you and Prowl earlier- I want you to be happy and-” The red twin cut the medic off by firmly covering his mouth with his own.

The kiss was uncoordinated and messy but it was filled with emotion and words that neither mech knew how to say. It only lasted for a matter of seconds, but they ticked by like they were in slow motion. When Sideswipe finally pulled away he found himself seated in Ratchets lap with the medics arms tightly wound around his waist. The frontliner leaned forward until his forehelm was resting against the medics.

“I am happy Ratch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay can we just talk about this chapter for a minute? I spent so much time writing this one because I wanted to get it right and I’m not 100% happy with it still, but I think it’s the best I might be able to get it.  
> However I’m totally in love with that final line, are you not?  
> What did you think of the chapter? Did it get you in the feels at all? Did it even like- poke your feels at all?


	8. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who has been commenting and supporting the story! It means the world to me that you're enjoying it.
> 
> WARNING!!!!!! This chapter is a little more brutal than I remember it being so just be warned of that.
> 
> Read up!

When Jazz first heard about it, he’d been terrified. His processor had automatically thought the worst: that he’d somehow gotten caught in an attack. It was unreasonable, but fear makes people think crazy things.

He was just so afraid of losing Prowl after only getting him back. The years without the tactician had been lonely and a lot dimmer. It’s funny how the mech that rarely smiled or laughed around other bots could be the same mech who brought so much joy to his life. His spark was pounding behind its casing: trying to break free.

Jazz had always had a bit of a crush on Prowl from the get go. He couldn’t understand why at first because the mech was so into his work. But as he made his way up the ranks and began to work more with the Praxian he suddenly found himself fully understanding just why he liked him: Prowl was outstanding. In every sense of the word.

Prowl had one of the hardest jobs, he had to deal with the knowledge that every loss they incurred was due to his battle tactics. Even though that wasn’t entirely true; he didn’t know the decepticons every move and it was a war so loss was a given. But Jazz knew from talking to Prowl about it, the mech thought each death was his fault and he had to carry that burden.

Another thing about Prowl was that the mech was certainly pleasing to look at that. His regal doorwings swooped behind him like a royal presence in themselves, and don’t even get Jazz started on his optics.

Prowls optics were one of Jazz’s favourite things in the world. Prowl’s optics held the key to the mechs true feelings; they conveyed what his faceplates had been trained not to. Jazz would be happy to spend his days staring into them, but he knew he could not.

He could however listen to the sound of his voice as often as he desired. It was the main reason Jazz bugged Prowl as much as possible; he wanted to hear the Praxians voice flow through his audio sensors.

Due to Jazz being in special opps, a lot of his senses were heightened: most noticeably was his hearing. When Prowl spoke his voice didn’t simply _reach_ Jazz’s audios, the tones washed over him in a graceful and almost teasing manner that made him crave its sound more.

The mere thought that he’d never hear that voice again was unbearably painful to even think of; never mind try to accept.

The third in command reached the medbay in record time; he hadn’t even bothered to tell Red Alert where he was going when Ratchet had commed him; he’d simply up and left, not even listening to the end of Ratchets comm.

Jazz tried to calm himself down as he approached the white medic who was stood a little ways off from the entrance. “Ratch? Wha’ happened? Is-is Prowl okay?”

The mech in question turned to him and grunted. “Yeah he’s perfectly fine.” Jazz was confused by that response, but didn’t have long to contemplate because something very solid suddenly hit him in the centre of his helm with a resounding bang.

“You would’ve known that too you slagger if you’d just listened to the rest of my damn comm: but no! You just had to cut me off and start jumping to idiotic conclusions!”

Jazz cradled his helm with his servos as he tried to recover from being hit so hard. He would’ve asked what he’d been hit with, but he already knew what the answer would be: a wrench.

“Ow! Aw c’mon Ratchet ah’m sorry okay? Buh y’know that ah- that Prowl’s mah best mech.” The medic paused in his ranting and looked at Jazz with softened optics.

Ratchet was one of the only ones who knew of Jazz’s true feelings for the tactician. It was largely due to the fact that sometimes if Jazz was knocked out so bad from battle, old memories and sometimes even dreams would surface to his processor, causing him to call out for Prowl in distress sometimes.

Ratchet had brought the matter up with Jazz: Jazz had carefully explained the matter to Ratchet with the help of some high grade and then both mechs had agreed to never mention the matter again. And it never had been; well, not really.

Jazz awkwardly cleared his vocaliser and looked at the medic. “So- eh where is he?” Ratchet turned around and pointed to a medical berth on the far end of the room.

Jazz gave Ratchet a quick mumbled thanks before he began to walk towards his destination.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Prowl hated crashing. It was such an inconvenience, a major design flaw in his creation. What made it worse was that it’d been years since he’d crashed: he’d been doing so well.

Stupid Sideswipe.

Stupid Ratchet.

Stupid processor.

When Prowl crashed he was forced to wander around in his mind, he had no say in whether or not he relived his memories: both the good and the bad kind.

But sometimes it wasn’t memories he relived. Sometimes they were his fears; just like now.

Prowls wrists were bound behind him, his legs shackled to the floor, his doorwings bolted to the wall sending excruciating pain through his body with every twitch he made.

The decepticons had captured him and subjected him to torture of every kind in an attempt to obtain autobot intelligence. But Prowl had held his tongue, he’d rather die than give the decepticons the upper hand.

The sound of distant blaster fire reached his audios. A rescue mission at last; but just as sudden as fire began, it abruptly ended.

The doors to Prowls cell were ripped open and something was shoved roughly forward in a blur of white. Prowls optics took in the before him with suspicion; it looked very familiar... _Jazz_.

Prowl made to rush forward on instinct but simply managed to tear a scream of agony from his vocaliser. His cry of pain startled the body in front of him, and suddenly they were at Prowls side in an instant.

Prowl watched Jazz’s mouth move but the words didn’t reach his audios; blocked out by the pain. His vision was blurry, but still focused enough that he could see the body sneaking up on Jazz. Prowl tried to warn Jazz, honestly he did, but the pain was too much and he was helpless to stop the mech from grabbing Jazz and ripping him away from Prowl.

A knife was held to Jazz’s throat, causing the special opps bot to freeze every single movement he made.

Prowl was questioned once more. He remained silent. The knife was pressed against Jazz’s throat hard enough to draw energon. He was questioned again. Prowl spoke.

Jazz shook his helm when Prowl first responded, mumbling a faint ‘no’ to the tactician. But Prowl couldn’t let Jazz die. Not when he’d come to save him.

When the mech had finished questioning Prowl he just stood there a moment looking between Prowl and Jazz as though having an internal debate. A malicious smirk took over his faceplates before he ripped the knife across Jazz’s throat.

“ **NO!** ”

Energon splattered onto the floor and ran down Jazz’s chestplates like some kind of sick waterfall.

Prowl screamed, he fought against his bonds as he thrashed like a wild animal. The decepticon released Jazz’s body which fell to the ground with a crash, before the mech sauntered out of the room.

Prowl continued to fight against the chains holding him back; warnings flashed up before his optics but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to tear that decepticon to shreds for what they’d done to Jazz.

Prowl finally managed to break free, his doorwings snapped in half. With a final roar of the mechs designation, sounding like a strange mix of agony and sorrow, Prowl fell forward: towards Jazz and towards darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay now this is an actual cliffhanger haha, I hope you are enjoying the story so far. I would also like to say that this chapter has to be one of my favourite so far. I have no idea why that is, but I’m just very proud and pleased with the way it turned out.


	9. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next chapter, are you excited?  
> Thanks everyone who has made it this far! Only one more chapter after this guys!  
> Read up!

Jazz watched as Prowls servos twitched on the berth and he assumed that the mech was finally waking up and coming back online at last. However he soon noticed that all was not as he thought and instead there was something clearly wrong with Prowl as his entire frame began to violently shudder and writhe on the berth.

“Ratchet! Somethin’s wrong: somethings happenin’ ‘nd it ain’t good!”

The medic was by Prowls side in an instant, but by then the worst had only begun. Prowls body was twitching something fierce, almost like he was having a seizure; the berth was shaking with the force of the Praxians thrashing. Then violent convulsions wrecked through the second in commands frame, causing foaming energon to form at the sides of his mouth.

" **NO**!" Prowls scream sent both mechs audio sensors ringing. The tactician was flailing so violently on the berth that the thing was groaning under the strain of trying to support such harsh movements on it. The poor thing was on the verge of collapsing.

Both bots watched as Prowl was in a state neither had seen before, and nor had they ever had the desire to. The tactician was acting like he was possessed: writhing, screaming, and crying out in pain.

Ratchet was nothing more than a blur of red and white after that as he dashed back and forth to his medical tools. Jazz was ordered to hold the tactician on his side so that the energon wouldn’t block his air ways and suffocate him: Jazz instantly did as the medic commanded with slightly shaking servos.

A large vial of _something_ was injected into Prowls neck none too gently by Ratchet soon later, which calmed the convulsions so that Prowl was no longer at risk of choking on energon and Jazz was therefore out of a job. The third in command no longer had any idea what to do with himself, he was an improviser sure: but this; this was something entirely different.

Prowls body was now eerily still on the berth, only his servos switching every so often. Ratchet was frantically looking at monitors trying to work out what had happened to the tactician. The medbay was creepily silent.

The mech shot up from his bed so abruptly that both Jazz and Ratchet were caught off guard as the previously unconscious mech was suddenly very much so awake. Prowls optics were blown wide open and darting around the room as though he couldn’t quite believe where he was.

When those shifting optics landed on Jazz the mech sprang from the bed and pounced. Jazz let out a surprised yelp as the tactician’s body collided with his own. He felt Prowls arms wrap around his waist as his servos clung to Jazz as though he were life itself.

Jazz didn’t respond, he couldn’t get his body to function because his processor was busy running a mile a minute trying to understand what the _hell_ was going on in this moment. One minute Prowl is having a seizure and the next he’s wrapped around Jazz like a turbo puppy.

Luckily he didn’t have to wonder too much longer because Prowl pulled away and placed his servos on Jazz’s shoulder plates and began babbling like Bluestreak.

“Jazz I’m so glad you’re ok. I thought you were dead, you _were_ dead. They killed you because you tried to save me and I couldn’t stop them and there was energon. So much energon and it was your energon and you _died_. All I could do was watch and I was helpless to stop them from killing the one mech who matters to me.” Something in Prowls optics shifted and his faceplates morphed into one of confusion as he removed his servos from a frozen Jazz.

“What- what happened? How’d I get here?”

Jazz winced at the almost innocent like way that Prowl had asked the question. He was completely oblivious to everything that had just happened: he had no idea of the horror that Jazz just witnessed or the statements he had just spilled from his vocaliser before his battle computers could come back online to stop him.

“W-What do ya remember Prowler?”

Jazz could practically see the gears turning in Prowls processor as he mulled that question over.

“Sideswipe pranked me so I made him help me clean up the mess. My finish was covered in paint... I remember Ratchet walked in and... and he thought Sideswipe and I were- when we weren’t and I- I crashed.” Prowl paused a moment in his explanation and his face scrunched up in concentration.

“I- I woke up and I was being held prisoner... they wanted information but I wouldn’t give it to them so they tortured me- that- I... then you showed up...” The tactician looked as though the memory was causing him pain. “They- there was so much energon... they killed you even when I did what they asked- and I couldn’t- couldn’t save you. _So much energon...”_

Jazz stared at Prowl in a mixture of affection and sorrow, so that’s why the tactician had called out his designation. Prowl thought Jazz had been murdered. The praxian cleared his vocaliser as it had became a little laced with static as the emotions of everything slowly crept up on him.

“When they- _he_ \- killed you I may have lost my cool as the humans would say.” Jazz snorted at that comment but said nothing. “I ended up tearing my doorwings in half trying to reach you; effectively waking me up due to shock.”

Jazz lost it. A broken sob burst free from his throat and a tear rolled down his faceplate and he fell against Prowl and hugged him close.

“I’m so sorry Prowler. So, **so** sorry!” Jazz couldn’t understand why he was crying. It had all been a dream and it wasn’t even his dream, yet for some reason seeing Prowl so upset over the matter had broken something inside of him.

It was as though a tidal wave of emotions had just slammed into his chest and had overwhelmed him. He loved Prowl. There was no way he _couldn’t_ love Prowl.

Even if Prowl didn’t love Jazz back the special opps mech knew the tactician felt _something_ for him, and for now that was all Jazz needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Honestly not all that sure about this chapter but eh, it’s okay I guess.  
> So as I said the next chapter will be the final chapter of the story so sit tight guys the end is nigh!


	10. At last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: At last the final chapter! A massive thank you to everyone who has made it to the end!  
> Read up.

Jazz was acting strange. Not in the normal “Jazz-is-the-strangest-bot-I-know” kind of way, it was more than that. He was being evasive.

Jazz seemed to constantly have an excuse for why he couldn’t spend time with Prowl: he was on patrol, he was tired, he had forgotten to finish a report. That last one was the straw that broke the metaphorical camel’s back; Jazz _never_ cared about reports and he certainly never avoided Prowl in order to complete them. The special opps mech typically jumped at any opportunity to spend time with the tactician.

If he was honest with himself Prowl missed the company. He never really realised how much time he spent with Jazz until the third in command suddenly decided he wanted to avoid Prowl like he was the plague.

At first Prowl thought that he might be simply exaggerating, they all got wrapped up in work sometimes. The thing is though; in all his years knowing Jazz the bot has never turned down the opportunity to talk to Prowl.

Maybe that was why it hurt so much.

But enough was enough.

Marching into the rec room Prowl practically oozed an air of irritation. It’d been 10 solar days since he’d woken up in Ratchets medbay. It was also 10 days since Jazz had spoken to the tactician and he was done waiting. Something had happened and he was going to find out what.

Prowl walked directly to the table in the corner which Jazz was currently sat at with Ironhide and Ratchet. The old warrior noticed him first as he was facing the door and his faceplates twitched upwards in the beginning of a smirk. Jazz remained oblivious to Prowls advancements until the Praxian was immediately to the side of him.

Jazz glanced up and winced. He actually _winced_ at the sight of Prowl. Were his confessions of his dream in the medbay so bad that Jazz no longer wanted to speak to him? Could he no longer bare the sight of Prowl without being horribly reminded of such an awkward fact: the fact that Prowl actually cared so much about him?

“Oh hey Prowler.” Jazz’s greeting was weak; he showed more enthusiasm towards Cliffjumper and Megatron than he currently did towards Prowl.

“Don’t ‘Prowler’ me Jazz.” The third in command looked confused by the statement. “Get up now and follow me. We’re _talking_.”

Jazz looked as though he was about to protest to the idea when Prowl sliced his excuse down before he’d even uttered it with a simple glare. Jazz hesitantly stood up and received a pat on the back from Ratchet before moving to follow Prowl as he led the way out of the rec room. An air of desperate curiosity filled the room in their wake as every mech tried to figure out what was happening.

Prowl walked in stiff silence to his room where he practically punched in his code to the door and waited for Jazz to walk through before following him.

The air around them was laced with awkward tension.

“Prowl was this all about, ah ‘ave things ah need ta do ‘nd-”

“What have I done Jazz?” The special opps mech looked at him in bemusement so Prowl elaborated. “Clearly something has happened which has caused you to stop social contact with me. Was it something I said when we were in the medbay?”

Jazz looked like a fish out of water, or a deer caught in the headlights, all human phrases which could easily be applied to the expression on Jazz’s faceplates. Prowl waited patiently, his own faceplates betraying his nervousness.

“Prowl- ah- Ah...” the bot sighed heavily. “Look, ah had a bit of ah realisation when ah was in the medbay.”

Prowl felt his spark sink at that. Jazz had finally realised that Prowl wasn’t someone he wanted to spend time with, that he was too uptight for Jazz to put up with anymore. Prowls face shut down and Jazz must have noticed the difference because he was instantly spewing out words.

“Prowl-” The tactician firmly kept his optics on the ground. “ _Prowl_ -” He still refused to look up. So what that Jazz didn’t want to be associated with him anymore: it wasn’t a big deal. “ _ **Prowler** look at mah._ ”

Prowl couldn’t do it. If he looked up now then Jazz would see the raw emotion on his face. He would be able to read Prowl’s emotions like an open book and then he’d _know_.

Prowl heard an angry growl from Jazz before he suddenly found his personal space being very much so invaded. Servos grabbed his faceplates and roughly turned his head so that his optics were gazing into Jazz’s own.

What he saw there was pure undivided affection, the strength of which startled him quite frankly. Jazz moved his head forward so that his mouth was a mere millimetre away from Prowls own and caused his spark to beat frantically in its casing.

“Ah like ya Prowler. I _really_ freaking like ya ‘nd tha’s a very hard thing tah deal with when yer so... _you_.”

Prowl couldn’t think. The heat of Jazz’s body was maddening and the slight brush of his lip plates against his own was all but causing him to glitch out. He didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Yet despite the sheer audacity of the situation Prowl didn’t want Jazz to move. It was as though he’d been longing for this all along...

Suddenly it all made sense. The feelings which had been assaulting Prowl for so long anytime he was around Jazz. The complete and utter destruction he’d felt as he was forced to watch Jazz die when he'd tried to rescue Prowl.

It all. Made. _Sense_.

Prowl leaned forward, closing the gap between the two with an air of finality.

A series of reactions took place: Jazz went tense beneath Prowl for a moment of time, then he jumped to life and finally began to respond to Prowl’s advancements.

Prowl was _kissing_ Jazz.

 _Prowl was **kissing** Jazz_.

_Jazz was kissing him **back**!_

The entire thing went by in slow motion and when they finally broke apart they were both venting heavily. Forehelms leaning against each other in one peaceful, tender moment.

“So, ah take it ya feel tha same then eh Prowler?” Jazz’s tone was carefully laced with humour, but Prowl could still hear the waver of doubt in his voice. He could still hear Jazz’s fear that perhaps Prowl would change his mind.

The tactician pressed one more tender kiss to Jazz’s lips by way of confirmation. “Yes Jazz, you know I do.”

The next few hours Prowl and Jazz sat together in the rec room, suspiciously close to one another. The pair carried on as though nothing had changed, they shared the odd glance every now and then, and Jazz was a little touchy feely with Prowl although that wasn’t anything _too_ new.

Months on from now Jazz and Prowl will accidently reveal their relationship by making out during one of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe’s elusive parties. Mechs will cheer and clap. Some will groan and complain about the sight. Others will be content enough to sit back and enjoy the fact that the two mechs finally got together.

A few will pass bags of coins around in response to a betting pool that had apparently been running on how long it would take before the mechs finally admitted their affections for one another.

Cliffjumper will try and make a rude and snarky comment, but Sideswipe will just hit him up the back of the helm and tell him to shut up. Earning a few snickers from the surrounding company who were able to hear.

Sure Prowl’s faceplates will heat up beyond belief at the sheer amount of attention that was suddenly being thrown his way. And Jazz might soak it all up- he might even encourage it by taking a seat in Prowls lap.

But they take it all in their stride: Jazz and Prowl alike, because they’re happy. They have each other at last.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: At last the fanfiction is over. Thank you so much to everyone who made it this far and I honestly hope you enjoyed this story because I put a lot of work into it for you all.  
> Until I next decide to procrastinate.  
> Peace   
> ~Terig

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Tahdah, so what did you think? I really do hope you enjoy this story and the next chapter will be up soon!


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